


Sunshine Baby, Won't You Stay?

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecure Dean, M/M, Sam is mentioned like once, married au, thats all i ever write, theyre so in love, writer!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8248469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Castiel enjoys writing things that make Dean feel like he's being worshipped. Dean wonders what ever did he do to deserve something as good as Cas.





	

Dean turned to his side and faces the other only other man in the house, catching him staring with furrowed eyebrows and a small smile. He winks and smiles back at Castiel with the infamous smile that made Castiel want to simultaneously throw himself out of a window and take off his pants. 

Castiel blushes and suppresses his own shy smile, turning back towards the rectangular, medium sized desk the men had in their room. Castiel mainly used the dark wooden surface for writing and such, on days where he didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of their bedroom to move into his study. He writes about different things like foods, insects and animals, strangers he’s created stories and lives for, and even completely made up characters. but most of all, he writes about Dean.

He writes about the way Dean sleeps, the way he eats, the way he talks, the things he talks about. Castiel writes about his eyes and his lips and everything in between. He writes about Dean’s life. The things he’s done both good and bad and the things he wants to do. When it comes to Dean, there’s always something incredibly fascinating to write about. To others, it’s weird. To him, its observant.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Dean teases, swinging his legs towards the edge and scooting off the bed, tossing the dark blue duvet to the opposite side of where he now sat. He gets up and makes his way towards Castiel. When he gets to him, Dean leans over him and wraps his arms around Castiel’s tense shoulders. Castiel looks up to give his lover a small smile before looking back down at his half written, sort of finished work. 

“I’m tired,” Castiel replies off topic, confusing Dean for a moment, “I just haven’t been able to sleep unless I write something down, though I’m too exhausted to do so.” Dean chuckles, green eyes observing the side of Castiel’s handsome, but exhausted looking features. “that’s because you never stop thinking.” He kisses Castiels’ temple, and moves back to standing upright. His hands rest on Cas’ bare shoulders, massaging the smooth skin that lays upon the strong bones and muscles that rest there and Castiel hums in appreciation.

They stay like that for five minutes at most, Castiel writing and Dean massaging his husbands tense and strong shoulders before he moves and sits back on the bed. It’s only two minutes later that Cas gets up and heads to the bathroom, using the toilet and brushing his teeth before heading to join Dean. He mumbles a soft “night, Dean.” And Dean responds with a “hmm, you too, Cas.” And a kiss to his forehead, nestling closer to the body in front of him.

—

Dean’s the first to wake. He sits up slowly and stretches clumsily, hitting his knuckles against the wooden headboard a couple of times. He yawns and gets up, and is headed towards the bathroom door until he catches his name on a piece of paper, sitting neatly on the desk, minding its very own business.

Dean can’t help it. He’s always been nosy. It became a habit when he had to watch over Sam, and stuck onto his personality like a leech. He hates it, hates himself for it, but not enough to stop himself from cautiously looking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still sleeping like a log, and picking up the paper.

It’s not like they’ve established a ‘don’t read anything on this desk, Dean’ rule. In fact, Castiel himself has read some things to Dean at his own will, some gloomy and pessimistic, others sanguine and lyrical. That meant they couldn’t be all that personal, right?

And it’s not like Dean doesn’t know his husband. Of course he does! They’ve been together for ten years and married for half of that time. Damn him if he doesn’t know Cas like the back of his hand.

So, why not ready the mysterious lined piece of paper with his name written on it? From just looking at it, Dean see’s his name in it multiple times. It’ll only take an idiot to sit down and try to guess who the topic of the story was. 

Dean turns again to make sure Castiel is still sleeping, though the man had been letting out snores ever since he had gotten up, and resumes on his merry way to the bathroom, but for a different purpose.

As soon as Dean makes it into the bathroom, he shuts the door and doesn’t bother to lock it. He sits on the edge of the bathtub and sighs, making himself comfortable by leaning against the wall behind him and putting one leg in the bath. He’s facing the toilet this way, and then he’s reminded by the overwhelming feeling of pressure settling in his bladder that he has to piss. He decides it must wait.

“Alright,” he talks to himself, “let’s see what Cas has to say.” He lifts the paper up and rests his elbows on his thighs as he begins to read.

 _“Dean is like summer.”_ it starts, and Dean feels intrigued immediately.

_“He’s warm and kind and beautiful. He glows like sunshine on a bright June day when he is happy, all rosy freckled cheeks and crinkles of joy, and is like a storm in August when he has hard days. The days where he cannot get out of bed. When he can’t speak without raising his voice or have a mug in his hands without flinging it across the room. He is still beautiful this way._

_His lips are the color of the tulips that grow in our front yard, his eyes the color of the greenest fields of grass i’ve ever seen. His voice the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore; harsh and strong and so relaxing. His body radiates the color of gold. A color so rich and so bright, it beckons to me to be kissed and caressed and loved. I have never wanted to listen to something so much before.”_

Dean pauses, stunned by the description. _Castiel thinks this highly of him?_ It wasn’t like he never looked at the other man and saw an entirely different universe he didn’t quite understand but still found breathtaking, but It makes him slightly uncomfortable just because he’s now becoming aware of the fact that Castiel is not only noticing things he considers great, he must also notice the things that are the complete opposite.

The thought makes him deflate a little, but then he gets back to reading the paper with words comparing Dean to all the gorgeous things in the world. He truly doesn’t feel like he deserves any of it, God knows he’s not worthy of Castiel’s complex perspective of beauty, but he’s not going to complain. He’s got it, and he doesn’t want it to leave. 

There’s a light knock on the door, followed by a muffled voice that belongs to Castiel. “Dean?” he opens the door, and finds his husband on the edge of the bathtub, looking perplexed and blissed out all at once while holding a piece of paper. Dean looks up at him as he moves further into the bathroom, and he gets up from his sitting position. he’s got red marks where his elbows rested on his thighs, and Castiel briefly wonders if his legs are sleeping from the obvious lack of circulation before he is forcefully grabbed by the face and kissed deeply. 

He doesn’t try and protest, though maybe he should because him and Dean both have morning breath. He just melts into Dean like he always does, knowing Dean will explain why he pulled him into such a passionate kiss in the middle of their small bathroom as soon as  _Dean_  chooses to pull away, because he sure as hell isn’t.

Dean does pull away eventually, even though it felt like he wasn’t going to. Castiel’s lips are a little numb and very much wet, and he wants Dean to kiss him like that all the time. They stand there, breathing slightly harder than normal and blushing like teenagers. Like they haven’t done something similar before. 

“I-uh,” Dean stammers, and Castiel gives him a smile that reeks so much more happiness than Dean thought he’d ever see. “I read the paper that you wrote last night.” His heart skips a little, scared that Cas would be mad at him for doing something he probably wasn’t supposed to do.  


To his surprise, Castiel’s smile widens impossibly so, and he leans in again for another kiss, this one shorter and simpler, but the same message sent in the previous kiss still makes its way through both of their bones just as hard. “Good.” is all Castiel replies with, eyes admiring the way Dean’s face reflects the morning sunshine outside, warm and kind and beautiful.


End file.
